You Can't Smoke Here
by unicornforcewinds
Summary: AU. Kuon frequents the bar where Kyoko works, and she can't stand the lousy playboy, which just makes it more fun for him. Who knew that the animosity would turn out to be sexual tension? They're both kind of a mess, but maybe they can help each other. Lemon.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: In honor of Kyoko Ren Week, I offer up a trashy fic featuring an unhealthy relationship dynamic. Shocking, I know. I present to you, dear reader, a bartender au. Smutty, angsty, sometimes fluffy, and, at times, really, really cheesy. Also, it takes place in the US, for no real discernible reason. AND I'm not thrilled about the title, so I might change it.**

* * *

"You can't smoke here," she told him curtly.

He flicked his lighter, pretending not to hear, as she leveled him with warning glare. He raised his eyebrow and her eyes turned murderous, so he dutifully put the cigarette back in his pack. By the time he lifted his head, she'd already turned away and was pouring someone else a drink. It was always like this, but for some reason he never got tired of baiting her. Maybe it was because she never stopped reacting to it.

 _That prat,_ she mumbled under her breath. He knew damn well that smoking wasn't allowed, but he thought he deserved special treatment. Did he expect her to fawn over him like the sad, lonely women who took him home every night? So what if he had impossibly blonde hair that might actually be natural, and eyes that sparkled like twinking emeralds? Ha, like she was impressed. Sho was her prince, even if… She shook her head, pushing away the familiar doubts. That kind of thinking wouldn't do her any good.

"Is this seat taken?"

Kuon turned his head toward the pretty blonde.

"It is now."

She breathed out a laugh, brushing her breasts against him as she slid onto the stool next to his, before crossing her legs so that more of her thighs were exposed.

"Can I get you something to drink?".

"Martini, straight up, very dry," she smiled, running a finger along the neckline of her dress.

He turned his head and there was his favorite bartender, with the usual annoyed expression on her face, already mixing the drink. She placed the glass on a napkin and pushed it toward his companion with a smile, which fell from her lips the moment she was briefly forced to face him mid turn.

 _Playboy,_ she thought bitterly, cursing him with ill fortune and erectile dysfunction as she wiped down the bar. After finishing their round, it was the usual display, performed by rote as if directed by a script.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

The whole thing made her stomach churn. It was predictable and cheap and empty. Kyoko hoped that unfortunate girl wasn't entertaining any ideas about the future, because she never saw that _emperor of the night_ go home with the same person twice. Not that she was paying enough attention to him to notice, of course. Why would she? Stupid playboy jerk.

"It's a graveyard," Kanae sighed, "let's close up early."

"Huh, you're right."

Kyoko hadn't even noticed. She took out the trash and locked up the back, before helping flip the chairs and mop up. Even though it was early, there was no real reason for her to rush home. No one would be waiting for her, she learned that lesson a long time ago. Instead of cooking an elaborate dinner and eagerly listening by the door, she'd have a simple meal alone and go to bed. She smacked her cheeks and Kanae gave her a pointed look, but she just smiled.

"Goodnight!" she called cheerfully, heading out the door.

"Yeah," Kanae grumbled, locking it behind her.

For the millionth time she wondered what Kanae's apartment above the bar looked like, hoping once again that someday they'd be close enough for her to be invited up. If there was one thing Kyoko was good at, it was patiently waiting for someone. Hell, she'd been doing it her entire life.

* * *

Kuon never stayed the night. Things didn't get confusing that way, and he was more comfortable in his own bed and his own apartment. There was no one to feign worry about him as he drank himself into unconsciousness and picked at a microwaveable dinner. Sometimes he'd see the scornful face of that bartender in his head and he'd smile to himself. Was she clairvoyant? Did she so disdain him because she could see inside him, and disliked him because she knew what he really was? He laughed despite himself at his own stupidity, trudging down the hallway and collapsing onto the bed, knowing sleep would take him soon.

"I'm home," she whispered to no one, as she pushed open the door.

The apartment was dark and empty, just like she knew it would be. She closed her eyes, lowering her head and forcing her lips into a smile, while releasing a deep breath.

"Okay," she perked up, raising her fists in triumph.

She wasn't going to let this get her down! Kyoko Mogami was stronger than this, and she would not be so easily defeated! With renewed vigor, she set down her things and marched to the kitchen to get dinner started. As always, she felt infinitely better once she'd begun, hypnotized by the knife's rhythm as she expertly chopped the vegetables. Cooking was never a chore, no, this was her happy place. This was where she felt the most calm and confident. It was a simple meal but balanced and delicious, and there were enough leftovers for lunch the next day. Sho never came home but that was alright, he was probably just overwhelmed with work.

* * *

He dragged a hand down his face and opened his eyes blearily, using his arm to block out the more aggressive rays of sunlight streaking in through the blinds. As always, he never seemed to stay asleep for long, even when he would've preferred to. He clenched his eyes shut, released a heavy breath, and reached for the bottle of aspirin on the night table. Three pills ought to do it, he thought, and if not, then it didn't really matter. Throbbing pain in his skull? Eh, he was pretty used to it now. He downed the usual black cup of instant coffee, and was ready to start his day, or at least, something close enough to it.

She stretched and yawned as she opened her eyes, releasing the fluffy ram pillow that was hugged to her chest. Kyoko believed in starting the day with a nutritious breakfast, and after a quick tidying up of the apartment, she was off to her job at the coffee shop. It took a lot out of her, working so many hours, but supporting Sho's dream was worth it. One day she'd get back what she put in, she just knew it. The struggle of getting through each day would eventually be a distant memory she could look back on with fondness, her and Sho together. She left him a message saying so after she clocked out, and headed for the bar.

It was a slow night, which was nice since she was feeling pretty tired, but fewer customers meant less money she'd be taking home. When the pretend fairy playboy walked in, she felt almost relieved, since the tips he gave were unreasonably generous. He probably only did it to make himself look good, so she wasn't going to let herself feel guilty. A jerk like that? Screw him, but not actually, because she'd never be that desperate. Why was she even thinking about that?

She smiled when the text came through on her phone, perfect timing. Normally she wouldn't check it at work, but it was a message from Sho and she hadn't seen him in a few days. A picture? She opened it eagerly and her face fell, every bit of strength she kept up through sheer force of will was gone, and tears pricked at the back of her eyes. Hastily, she ran to the rear door, hoping to keep it together until she was alone.

When he saw the look on her face, he couldn't help it. His body reacted without intervention from his brain, and he followed after her, finding her crouched down and sobbing in the alley behind the bar. He reached a hand toward her and then pulled it back, clenching his fist. Every instinct said to hug her, but if she really disliked him so much, then that would probably only make things worse.

"I'm fine, I just need a minute," she assured, at the sound of the door closing.

"You don't look fine."

Her head snapped in his direction, shocked to see who it was that followed her. She quickly wiped her tears and stood, face defiant.

"Don't pretend to care," she warned, her tone taking on a hard edge.

That was fine. If she was angry at him then maybe she'd be too distracted to cry.

"Isn't checking on someone when they're upset the polite thing to do?"

"Ha!" She scoffed, narrowing her eyes, "what a thoughtful playboy you are. Do you tuck your conquests in before you sneak out of bed? Leave tissues on the pillow for when they wake up alone?"

Wow, she really wasn't holding back. He almost wanted to smile, even if it was oddly disappointing that she had such a low opinion of him. Instead of trying to defend himself, he just let the words disappear into the night air. No matter what he said, she wouldn't believe him, and who cared about her opinion anyway? He took a deep breath and pulled out a cigarette.

"You can't smoke here."

"We're outside," he ignored her, flicking his lighter.

She walked up to him, ripped the cigarette out of his mouth, threw it on the ground, and smashed it under her shoe.

"I don't care."

"You know," his voice grew darker as he took a step forward, "that wasn't very nice."

She looked up at him with fire in her golden eyes, and it was so hard to keep his face impassive. She was so fierce but so predictable, and he really did enjoy getting under her skin. At least the distraction seemed to be working, maybe a little too well.

"You deserve worse," she spat.

What the hell was his problem? He chose right then to pick a fight with her?

"You're probably right."

She moved back as he took another step forward, her heart beating furiously in her chest. What exactly was his game?

"What are y-"

Her eyes went wide as she collided with the wall, and he stood mere inches away, towering over her.

"I was just thinking. If you won't let me smoke, then I need something else to do with my mouth."

His stupid, sparkly, gemstone eyes pinned her in place, boring holes in her skull.

"Your m-mouth…"

Why did her face feel so hot? He grabbed hold of her hand and lifted it, and her pelvic muscles contracted suddenly. She stopped breathing.

What the _hell?_ This wasn't how she was supposed to react! She was supposed to yell or curse him, or start swinging her fists. All he was trying to do was get her riled up, so she wouldn't think about what had her so upset. It didn't seem possible that she was actually attracted to him, but when she bit her lip, looking up at him with what he could almost swear was desire, he _needed_ to find out. With his pulse pounding in his ears, and the resolute knowledge that he was absolutely going to hell if there was one, he brought her hand to his mouth and bit down on her finger.

He was searching for some signal from her that he should stop, but she didn't give him one. Aside from the rise and fall of her chest, she didn't move an inch. He blinked, and then again, wondering just how bad an idea this was, before dragging his teeth down her skin and then licking. She gasped, leaning further into the wall, and turned her head away from him. Fine then, if that was the game she wanted to play, then the least a playboy like him could do was oblige.

It was shameful how her body was reacting to him. How long was it since she'd last been touched? Long enough that she couldn't remember, but it wasn't fair that he was so stupidly attractive. Was she actually doing this? Her mind flashed back to the image on her phone, and she no longer cared, not so long as he could make her forget, even just for a moment.

His breath was hot against her palm, and he licked a path across her skin that made her shiver. Her eyes closed, bracing herself to the wall with her other hand, as he sucked a finger into his mouth and massaged it with his tongue. She couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips. Was she really so desperate that such a small thing had her so worked up? She was pathetic and disgusting, but then one of his hands was on her hip and all she wanted was for him not to stop.

The way her body responded was making it really hard for him to hold back, but just how far did she intend to let this go? Each soft little murmur spurred him on, and he wanted to see what other sounds she would make for him. His hand trailed down her hip, fingers pressing hungrily into her flesh, and he wanted more. With a final drag of his teeth, he pinned the hand he'd been playing with above her head, and bent over her. He moved slowly, waiting for some sign that she wasn't into it, but he found none.

Kyoko had no idea what she was doing, but she could feel his lips against her neck and he was palming her ass, and she didn't care anymore which way was up. When his knee parted her thighs, she wantonly ground herself against his leg, desperate for some friction. His mouth trailed a path up her skin, teasing with his tongue and nipping at her jaw. She was losing her mind but it didn't matter, not so long as he kept it up.

She lifted one leg, angling herself closer, and he chuckled breathily against her skin. He was such a bastard, but she really did want to screw him now. Whatever happened to her standards apparently died when she saw that picture, or maybe she just stopped lying to herself. This was what he did right, so then why was he holding back?

"Are you always this impatient," he whispered, tickling her with his breath.

"Don't speak."

"How will you stop me?"

She took the hand he didn't have pinned and grabbed hold of that stupid, unreasonably soft hair, and pulled his mouth to hers. He tasted like strong liquor and cigarettes, but she didn't care because he felt too good. His lips moved with practiced skill, his tongue flicking and licking hers, and she was burning up from the inside out. Finally he gave in, lifting her up so her legs wrapped around his waist, and she could feel him, hard and throbbing, even through their clothes. He pinned her to the wall with his body, the firm planes of his chest pressing against her breasts, and his large hands gripping her thighs.

"Next time you should wear a skirt," he struggled, grinding against her.

"Don't speak," she warned, yanking on his hair and pulling him back in for another kiss.

 _Next time,_ she thought, _what a horrible joke._ Like she didn't know what a playboy he was. Only now, he was exactly what she needed.

Maybe it's true what they say, that it's better when the other person hates you, because this was fucking incredible. The taste of her skin, and the way she bit at his lips; the press of nails along his scalp, and the feel of her thighs around him, left him feeling hypnotized. Was this real? Their clothes were on, but it almost didn't matter. If she wasn't already his favorite bartender before, she definitely was now, but he could hardly believe it. They were rubbing against each other like a couple of teenagers, in the alley behind the bar, where anyone could…

The sound of a clearing throat brought them back to earth and she instantly stepped down, shoving him back like close proximity would infect her. He wasn't surprised, but it still didn't feel great. Part of him wanted to get a picture of her face like that, red as a tomato, to tease her with. She'd be furious.

"I don't really care what you do, but Kanae probably won't appreciate you blowing off work to _fraternize_ with a customer."

Kyoko's face was on fire. How did she completely forget where she was and what she was supposed to be doing? Thank God it was Chiori, she didn't even want to think what would've happened otherwise. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, smoothed out her clothes, and rushed back inside. Hopefully he wouldn't follow her. Right now she didn't have the courage to face him, not after _that._ Just what was she doing, and what exactly would she have done if they hadn't been interrupted?

"Mo, if you keep scrubbing that hard, you'll wear through the varnish."

Kanae was glaring at her when she raised her head, and she realized she'd been vigorously scouring one area of the bar. She'd been too afraid to look up and see _him,_ and she didn't want to check if he'd left or not. This was a mess. How long was it until close?

He leaned against the wall, the one he had her up against just a few minutes before, and took a long drag off his cigarette. She'd really surprised him; he definitely had no idea the night would turn out like this. Of course, now that he knew where provoking her could lead, he had no intention of stopping. Maybe she wasn't the only one who needed distracting, and he was more than ready to lose himself between her legs. He decided to walk home, not wanting to push his luck too much in one night. It was funny, if he didn't know better he'd almost swear he was in a good mood. Maybe he really was a masochist.

* * *

At last she was home, and could finally get some damn peace. She pushed the door open, and… Sho? What the hell was he doing here? Normally she'd have been so happy to see him, but right then that was the last thing she needed. The picture was all but forgotten with the vivid memory of that playboy's lips, and she didn't know how to face him. Were they even now? The thought made her feel sick.

 _Shit,_ he thought, looking at her. _Did she see it or not?_ Why did women have to be such a pain?

"Kyo-"

"I'll make dinner as soon as I shower!" she yelled behind her, rushing straight past him.

What was she thinking? Of course he already ate, and now she was ignoring him. She saw it didn't she, and she was upset, and that's why she wasn't even looking in his direction, when she normally stared at him like a lovestruck puppy. He wondered if he could smooth things over by sleeping with her, since that usually fixed things. It had been a while, he realized, so he probably should've even if she didn't see the picture, just as insurance.

He was almost never there when she got home, so why did it have to be that night of all times? Was she cursed? Was it divine punishment for her shameless behavior? She was wanton and indecent, and all she could think about, as the water beat down on her, was how good it felt.

"Be strong, Kyoko!" she told herself, but it was useless.

She pulled the shower head down and held it between her legs, until her whole body trembled and she was ready to collapse. Even then, she was _still_ frustrated. Why did Sho have to come home now? Selfish bast- she shook her head. What the hell kind of thought was that? He was her prince. He was her life. They had a future together, and that's what she was working so hard for. How could she forget that? This was no good.

Why did women have to be so much trouble? The girl who sent the picture, well it didn't matter how amazing her breasts were, Sho had no tolerance for someone trying to control his life like that. Besides, she couldn't even cook, so there was no way he'd let her screw things up for him with Kyoko. Even if she was acting totally weird and avoiding him like her life depended on it. At least she didn't seem angry, but that's what was great about her. If she actually did see it, then she'd just end up forgiving him anyway. She always did.

* * *

 **A/N: Welp! Stay tuned for chapter 2 next week. Also, I have not forgotten about The Rules, I just am super blocked with the current chapter :/**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Some time has passed since the last chapter, maybe like a week?**

* * *

Last night had been bad. He woke up drenched in cold sweat and gasping for air. How long was it since he last had the nightmare? His nails dug into the skin of his palm as he tried to regain some kind of equilibrium. Ten years was a long time, but some wounds never really healed, and he didn't deserve peace anyway. It was just one of those things that you learn to live with because the only other choice is to stop living. That was something he couldn't bring himself to do, even if it wasn't much of a life.

By mid morning he was feeling the exhaustion and decided to grab a coffee. As soon as he walked in, he couldn't help the smirk forming on his lips. _What a perfect distraction,_ he thought, wondering why he'd never been to this shop before. Apparently his favorite bartender served more than just alcohol, and now he could have some fun with her during daylight hours. Probably not _too_ much fun, but hopefully enough to lift his mood.

"What can I get for you?"

"Sorry, but I'd like her," he pointed toward the flurry of copper and black trying to escape into the backroom, "to make it."

"Oh, well… of course," she faltered, turning her head, "Kyoko, could you help this customer?"

 _Help him right out the door,_ she thought, dragging her feet back to the counter and reminding herself how badly she needed this job.

She forced her mouth into something like a smile and greeted him as per the script, "What can I get for you?"

That bastard had a smirk on his face and she wanted to wipe it right off. Smug playboy jerk. She'd think he planned this if not for the way his expression shifted when he saw her. And he _had_ seen her, before she had a chance to escape, and of course he didn't let her. She reminded herself again how much she needed this job.

"I'll have an Americano."

The way he said the words made them sound like an indecent proposal, but she tried to ignore him and the heat rising in her cheeks. She pushed the necessary buttons on the digital display and grabbed a cup. As she held the pen in her hand, a terrible, childish, and incredibly petty thought occurred to her, and she bit her lip so it wouldn't show on her face.

" _No problem,"_ she chirped.

Her tone told him it was definitely a problem, but it just made him want to antagonize her more. Did she actually hate him, or was she just pretending to? It didn't even matter, because he was enjoying the hell out of their little game. He was pretty sure she was too, though she'd never admit it, and he could almost swear she was fighting a smile as she handed him the cup. Then, he saw what she'd written, and looked at her incredulous. It was just so _juvenile._

"Something wrong?"

It was so hard to stop herself from laughing.

She blinked at him, those large eyes all innocent, but the tips of her ears were pink.

" _Corn,_ really?"

"Yes…?"

He wanted to bend her over the counter and spank her until her ass was the same color as her ears.

"I just didn't know we were giving each other pet names, _Cocoa."_

He! That playboy jerk!

It was intensely satisfying watching her expression turn from triumphant to aghast. She just stared at him speechless, her mouth hanging open, and he bit back a laugh.

"Well then, I guess I'll see you tonight."

He smiled at her, and she wanted to take the drink and throw it right in his stupid, smug face, but she was about to be vindicated regardless. On his way to the door he lifted the cup to his lips, took a sip, and immediately started coughing. Americano? She was certain he'd said Caramel Macchiato. Oops! He shot her a very pointed look and she just smiled at him sweetly. Good, hopefully he got the hint and wouldn't be back. Dealing with him at one job was more than enough.

* * *

That was a cute move she'd pulled earlier with his coffee, and it meant he was really getting under her skin. Pushing her past pretending seemed to be the only way to get any honesty from her, so if having to swallow a few terrible drinks was what it took, he was pretty certain it'd be worth it. He couldn't be sure that she'd keep it up of course, but he had a feeling she might, and there was always one surefire way to wind her up right off the bat.

He said he would see her that night, but she still wasn't prepared for it. Why couldn't he take the hint and leave her alone already? She couldn't stand him, didn't he know that? Just because she had the misfortune of being physically attracted to his unreasonably good looking features, didn't mean she _liked_ him. It just meant she had eyes. Really though, it should've been illegal for someone to be that sexy, and _wow,_ did he know exactly what to do with his body… Of course, that wasn't surprising for a playboy like him, and she was losing sight of the point, which was… what was it?

"Evening, _Cocoa,"_ he smirked, pulling out a cigarette.

She yanked it out of his mouth with defiant eyes and broke it in half.

"The usual, _Corn?"_

Her lips were curved upwards, but that was the only thing her expression had in common with a smile. She looked about an inch away from murder, so why did he find it so alluring? Probably because he knew what was hiding under that veil of anger, and he couldn't wait to strip it away. That her clothes would probably come off with it, well that was just a bonus.

He looked so fucking smug she wanted to strangle him, but she still had a job to do. She was a professional, and she would act like one, even if it killed her. She was seriously starting to think it might. Granted, just because she brought him a drink, didn't mean it had to be the right one. If she was forced to sit there and endure his antagonism, then the least she could do was give it right back to him. Besides, the look on his face earlier had been priceless. She wouldn't mind seeing it again…

"What's this?"

So she did take the bait. It was his win, but he was already starting to regret it.

"Your drink."

He smiled at her wickedly, the emperor of the night smoldering with full force, and she was unable to look away. He licked his lips and took a sip.

"Delicious," he lied.

"I'm so glad you like it," she lied right back.

The first time he rejected an offer of company, she thought maybe the girl just wasn't his type. The _third_ time, she wondered what the hell he was doing. Was it that much fun to antagonize her? He needed to hurry up and go home with someone before she ended up making _another_ mistake. The moment he touched her, reason and sense went out the window, right along with her willpower, and she was almost ready to admit that she needed saving from herself.

For a second he thought she might actually be jealous, but every time he turned someone down, she looked increasingly annoyed. It would've been easier to leave with literally anyone else, but he wouldn't have enjoyed himself nearly as much. Then again, he also wouldn't be forced to down each progressively worse tasting glass she set in front of him. At least it couldn't get much worse than the last, or so he thought.

"Another round?" she asked with a grin, blinking at him slowly.

"Of course."

This was working better than she could've imaged! The wind seemed to blow right out of his sails, and all that cocksure bravado had drained from his face. She knew his stupid expressions well enough from prolonged exposure, and his eyes looked almost _afraid._ Maybe she was taking it too far? Then again, maybe if she went far enough he would finally leave her alone, and besides, it's not like a sugary cocktail ever killed anyone.

She was trying to kill him. He hoped his voice sounded more sure than he felt, because he was having serious doubts. There was the smallest glimmer of hope when her expression momentarily wavered, but then that dark glint was back in her eyes and he knew he was done for. He chanced a look at the clock on the wall and breathed out a sigh of relief. At least this would be his final drink for the night, and she more than outdid herself.

 _Ominous,_ that's how he would describe it. Bright pink and shimmering, it did _not_ look like something intended for human consumption. He gulped, trying to fix his fallen face when he caught her looking like she'd won. Just yesterday, if someone told him he'd be grateful for his mother's cooking, he would've thought they were insane. Just yesterday, he didn't know that every unpalatable mouthful he was forced to swallow had prepared him for exactly this moment.

Wow, he really was that much of a stubborn asshole, wasn't he? She almost felt bad for a second, but it served him right! It wasn't like she was forcing him against his will, even if the thought of drinking that much grenadine almost made _her_ gag, and she actually enjoyed sweets… Okay, maybe it was too far. He'd still probably try to pay, and tip her well besides. _Dammit,_ she cursed herself for being weak.

"Listen, you d-" she started, guilt gnawing at her insides.

"Don't worry," he promised suggestively, "I intend to pay you back in full."

He saw her cheeks flush before he choked down the unholy abomination in a single gulp. It was actually worse than he anticipated, and he was genuinely impressed, because he didn't think that was possible.

" _Water,"_ he croaked, and she pushed a glass in front of him.

He swallowed it greedily, even if it didn't help very much, threw down a couple of bills, and went outside to wait for her. At least he'd finally get a fucking smoke.

Once they finished closing, she thought about sneaking out the back to avoid him, but checking to see if he was alright seemed like the least she could do. There was absolutely no other reason that she walked up to where she knew he was waiting. Waiting for _her._ He was leaning his ridiculously tall body against the brick building, his stupid golden hair obscuring his face. She wondered sometimes if someone that perfect could really be human, and thought that maybe he was actually a demon, sent there to tempt her. The flesh was weak, and the forbidden fruit irresistibly sweet.

He exhaled a puff of smoke and put his cigarette out on the ground. Part of him wanted to push her more, but she actually showed him some concern over that terrible drink, and he wondered if her hard shell could possibly be starting to crack.

"How… how are you feeling?" she asked sheepishly.

He put a hand on his stomach for effect. "Awful."

"I'm sorry."

He was going to hell. She really thought he was serious and it was so hard not to laugh. Then those big, golden eyes looked up at him earnestly, and it was like he was seeing her for the first time. He stood in front of her, their bodies almost touching, and gently lifted her chin when she looked away. There was uncertainty there, and he wanted to erase it. Why or how were things he didn't know, so he kissed her, because it was the only thing he could think to do.

"You taste _terrible,"_ she grimaced, but didn't pull away.

He chuckled.

"And whose fault do you think that is?"

She turned her head and huffed.

"I meant the smoke."

"Yeah, and I had to do _something_ to get that awful taste out of my mouth. Was that a real drink, that people order on purpose, or something you mixed up special just for me?"

Her cheeks were burning, but she had to remember her resolve. She was trying to get rid of him. She _needed_ to get rid of him.

"I-if you don't like it, then you can get your drinks from Kanae, or better yet, go to a different bar."

She stuck out her bottom lip, crossing her arms over her chest. The effect she was going for was lost in the half-hearted delivery, and he clenched his jaw. How was it possible for someone to be that adorable, and that much of a pain in the ass at the same time? He inched forward until their bodies were flush, holding her gaze when she looked up at him.

"But I like this bar," he paused, walking her backwards until they reached the wall, "and besides, Kanae probably wouldn't let me do this..."

His lips were on hers, and she didn't even care about the smoke anymore. She wondered momentarily if he'd have done this with Kanae if she _would_ let him, but of course he would. Unlike her, Kanae was beautiful and…! He nipped her lower lip suddenly, snapping her out of it.

"Am I boring you?" His voice was dangerously low and it made her shiver

"Sor-mmph!"

His fingers teased her through her pants, and she gripped his shoulders for dear life, the dissenting thoughts finally silenced.

"Better?" he asked against her lips.

She nodded, opening her mouth to welcome his tongue, as his fingers made her wet and desperate.

"A skirt would've made this so much easier," he teased.

She flushed. He was trying to embarrass her, but she didn't care, not now.

"So, are you finally ready to take me home, or do you really like fooling around in alleys this much?"

That sobered her.

"Home? To my… You, with me?"

He smiled against her skin, "that is the general idea, yes."

For just a second she entertained the terrible thought. He was beautiful, and he wanted to go home with her. She could take him to the apartment she shared with Sho, and risk being caught. How would he react? What would he do? Would he even care? The smallest part of her almost wanted to find out, but it was too horrible. Was she really so awful a person that she could do something like that? It was incredibly depressing, and besides, being out in the open stopped them from taking things even farther. No, it definitely wasn't an option.

"You can't. We _can't."_

So that's how it was, huh? He thought she might be with someone, but the look on her face confirmed it. She was quite the little hypocrite though, judging him while using him, but that wasn't any of his business. He did wish she was a bit less self-righteous about it though, that was one thing that grated, but he was just a lousy playboy to her. What did it matter what she thought of him, when all she cared about was that he could make her cum? Honestly, it pissed him off, but he wasn't entirely sure why.

"Don't worry, _Cocoa,_ I won't let that stop me."

He pulled down her zipper and pushed his hand into her underwear. It was a tight fit, but he'd make it work. She was counting on him, after all. His fingers thrust inside her and she clung to him, moaning sweetly in his ear. Instead of exciting him, he felt numb and full of disdain. Why didn't it work the same with her?

There was something different about him, and when she tried to kiss him, he barely returned it. He just stroked her harder, almost aggressively, and her nails bit into the skin of his back, as she lost control of her breathing.

"K-kuon," she panted, "I-"

He silenced her by biting her lips, and her legs became useless. Why did she enjoy that so much? Why did she feel helpless the moment he touched her? Why did he… she didn't even care anymore. He felt too good, his fingers inside her, and his strong muscles beneath her hands, but she wanted more of his mouth and his tongue. Why was he denying her?

What the hell was wrong with him? He didn't know what he was doing, or why it bothered him that she saw him that way, when she was so kind and thoughtful to everyone else. That didn't stop her from writhing against him as he brought her to completion. Why did it suddenly stop being fun and start making him feel bitter and empty? She distracted him alright, but he didn't need her help to feel like shit.

The moment she finished, he withdrew his fingers, said 'Goodnight', and started walking away. It took her a minute to mentally grasp the situation, and when she did she was furious. With unsteady legs, she went right up behind him and shoved him hard. He might've been a playboy, but that was a new low, even for him! So what if she was no good and pathetic, did he really have to treat her like that? Trying to hurry up and get it over with, just like… _just like Sho…_ She faltered, the realization almost overwhelming, but she forced herself to turn it back into anger.

"I _know_ I'm plain and boring and undesirable to men, but no one forced you to touch me! I didn't ask you not to go home with someone else, so don't you dare act like I'm some chore you have to finish!"

Huh? Plain and _boring?_ Her? Where the hell did she… The look on her face hit him like a punch in the stomach. He'd seen her angry plenty of times, but he'd never seen her _hurt._ Then he remembered how this all started - when he found her crying. Did she really believe those words? Had the person she lived with made her think they were true? Of course he'd gone and thrown salt in the wound when her guard was down. The last thing he wanted was to be responsible for the pain etched on her face.

"Kyoko-"

"Don't!" she spat. "I don't want to hear it. This time I mean it, _don't come back._ If you want to drink or pick people up, do it at another bar. This one is _mine,_ and you can't have it!"

When she turned from him, he couldn't seem to do anything but watch her walk away. This was why he didn't get close to people - he just ended up disappointing them, and making them leave. He knew better, but he did it anyway. Guilt and self-loathing coiled around his insides, like old, familiar friends coming to visit. How long did they plan to stay? If he got what he deserved, they'd never leave.

Kyoko made it bravely all the way back to her apartment, and found it mercifully empty. She let herself collapse right there, sliding down the cold, hard door and letting her tears fall freely. The truth she'd done her best to keep buried was refusing stay down. It was coming, the day she'd have to face it, but she still wasn't ready yet. Things were comfortable, familiar, and that playboy had to go and ruin everything. She'd never forgive him, even if it was her own damn fault.

* * *

 **A/N: So I did NOT intend to nosedive that scene, but it just kind of happened. I'm sorry :/**

 **Hopefully you enjoyed the super cheesy nickname thing, and a million thanks to Aikori, who graciously allowed me to steal the intentionally messed up drink order bit.**

 **If all goes as planned, this should be the halfway mark!**


	3. Chapter 3

He did what she told him, he'd gone to another bar, and went home with other women. For some reason it just didn't feel the same as it used to, and he seemed to be burning through a pack of smokes much faster than before. More booze, too, because he couldn't get that damn look on her face out of his head. She wasn't the first girl he made cry, but it never hit him like this before. What was so special about her anyway? Judging him with those brilliant, golden eyes, and giving him the wrong drink on purpose... It's not like he could _miss_ that.

Convenience store prices made her grimace, but there weren't many options within walking distance so late at night. Her eyes idly roamed the magazine covers as she waited, and she couldn't help noticing how tall and blonde the person ahead of her was. A reminder of that playboy jerk was the last thing she needed, but anything was better than actually seeing the person himself. The prospect was mortifying, especially after she'd finally gotten some peace.

"Anything else I can help you with sir?"

"Just the cigarettes, thanks."

She froze, the blood in her veins turning cold. _That voice,_ it couldn't be! What the hell was he doing here, of all places? But how could she escape? Maybe she could throw her items at him when he turned, and run away before he saw her...

He tapped the new pack against his palm, eager to get outside and strike up a light, when his jaw dropped.

"Kyoko?"

She was looking everywhere but at him, with the kind of horrified expression that said she hoped the earth would open up and swallow her whole. He probably should've just taken the hint and left right then, but he couldn't leave things the way they were.

Someone behind her cleared their throat, bringing her painfully back to herself and how she was holding up the line. She rushed to the counter, paid for her things, and breathed a sigh of relief when a cautious glance over her shoulder showed no sign of him. Could he really have left just like that? She looked back and forth, and crept out of the store as quietly as she could, afraid that he might suddenly appear at any moment.

"You look like a cat burglar from a cheesy cartoon," he told her, crushing a cigarette butt under his shoe.

He was trying hard not to laugh, given the situation, but he couldn't help himself. She gave him the kind of infuriated expression he'd grown so used to, eyes to the side and lip snarling, and for a second it was like the other night never happened. He wondered if she realized it too, because she stood up straight and marched off.

Knowing it was most likely a terrible idea, he went after her, _again._

"Kyoko."

"Don't speak to me. And stop following me."

"But I live in this direction."

Of course he did! She wanted to punch him right in his stupid, depressingly gorgeous head.

"Fine, I'll wait and you can go."

He took a deep breath, realizing this was probably his only opportunity.

"Whoever told you that you were boring and undesirable was wrong."

Ha, like she'd be taken in by that. Though, she couldn't help but notice he didn't even bother to lie about the _plain_ part.

"And you're not plain, either."

She spun around to look at him, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. Apparently she remembered it pretty vividly, but after what he did, that wasn't surprising. He hoped she didn't play it over in her head.

"Is there a point to this?"

Was he _trying_ to upset her? Lying to her face was just adding insult to injury. How stupid did he think she was? What the hell was his game? Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

"I just want you to know that what happened..." this was so much harder than he thought it would be. "I'm sorry."

Now she was mad. Did he expect her to fall for the same trick twice, really?

"Don't be. It's the kind of thing I expect from a _playboy_ like you."

Anticipation did not soften the blow, which landed squarely on target. Why did that word sting so much when she said it? He felt fucking pathetic, but all of this was unfamiliar territory. Nothing could ever be simple with her.

"That's right," he stepped toward her. "So why did I leave off there? Wouldn't a _playboy_ want to seal the deal?"

"How the hell do I know?!"

His hand tensed. If she wasn't liable to break it in half, he'd have pulled out the cigarette he was desperate for. Why did she make him so angry?

"You're pretty naive about how this works for someone who acts like an expert."

Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Was once not enough for him? Did he get off on humiliating her?

"It doesn't take an expert to spot you from a mile away."

"Then why were you looking so closely?"

He was baiting her, hoping she would bite. And she did.

"I wasn't!" she stammered.

Her face was burning. The moment she spoke the words, she realized how unconvincing they sounded.

"You were," he argued, "but so was I. That's how I noticed."

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes.

"I'm impressed, I didn't think you could see past your own _ego."_

He laughed despite himself, at least the barbs seemed a bit less hostile now.

"What can I say? You did manage to bruise it pretty well," he admitted.

"Me? How?"

She had no idea what this new tactic was, but she couldn't help feeling curious against her better judgment. He was such a bastard, sucking her in like this.

"You think of me as _just_ a playboy, and it's pretty insulting to be reduced to that." He rubbed the back of his neck, the naked truth feeling too intimate. "I have a lot of other bad qualities too, you know."

That damn jerk! She had to bite her lip to stop the smile creeping up her face, but she reminded herself that this was some kind of game for him, and that she was supposed to be done playing.

"I don't get what you want from me."

And there was a glimpse of that vulnerability beneath her strong exterior. The weary look in her eyes evaporated any anger, and he just wanted to hug her again.

"I'm not good at this," he confessed - it was like pulling teeth, "but I can't seem to leave you alone. Honestly, I don't know why."

She tried to imagine a world in which this inhumanly attractive playboy would find it difficult to forget _her._ Someone who slept with a different person every night… and then it occurred to her, they never actually had sex. Was that what this was about? Was that what would make him leave her alone? Maybe she could finally get him out of her system too. It was a terrible idea, she knew, but what could it hurt? It's not like she had any self respect left to lose.

"Alright."

"Alright?"

She shoved her bag into his arms and went back into the store, much to his confusion. He waited, which was apparently what he was supposed to do, and she reemerged a few minutes later, carrying a small package.

"So," she began, working up the nerve, "your place, or a h-hotel?"

She really hoped her face wasn't as red as it felt, but it was incredibly embarrassing. Propositioning men was not something she had a lot of experience with, but getting it over with seemed like the best course of action.

He was _dumbfounded._ There really was no other word for it. What happened to the Kyoko who wanted to play innocent, and cared so much about propriety? Asking a _playboy_ to take her home was the exact opposite of what he expected, and he was genuinely shocked.

"This way," he told her, trying to calm his nerves.

He didn't bring people home with him, so why was he leading her there? When she already had such a low opinion of him, it's not like he had to worry about her judgement, but still. Expectations wouldn't be a problem because he knew she didn't have any, and for some reason that was… almost disappointing. He had no idea what he was doing when he was with her, but he couldn't help wanting more. Maybe this would be a mistake, but there was only one way to find out.

* * *

She'd acted all confident and self-assured, but now that she was actually here, _in this gorgeous playboy's apartment,_ she suddenly became uncertain. Was she really going to do this? Could she really do it? This was a mistake. The whole thing was a huge mistake.

He searched her face, trying to read the thoughts that were usually so clearly written there, but she wouldn't look at him. His own mind was a mess, too. She was actually here, with him, this girl that was driving him crazy and had filled his head with her, but just the fact that he brought her to his place proved what a terrible idea it was. The silence dragged on as he waited for some signal from her, until he finally felt compelled to break it.

"Hey."

His voice was so gentle that she was actually able to meet his eyes. He stepped closer, giving her such an earnest expression. He was too good, that playboy _._ Taking one of her hands in each of his, he pressed their palms together, lacing their fingers. His touch, usually so electric, was somehow calming her down She didn't understand it.

"We don't have to do anything you aren't comfortable with. I'll take you home right now if you decide that's what you want."

This wasn't how she expected him to be. She tucked her chin, looking down at their feet. Was it what she wanted? She didn't really know, but the thought of leaving right then and returning to her empty apartment alone was unbearable. It would be fun while it lasted, right, a good distraction? Even if he'd been driving her crazy…

"No."

"No?"

He couldn't help but smile. Nothing with her was ever simple, but maybe that's what made it so much fun.

She cleared her throat. "I-I'll stay."

"Oh?" That blush made him want to kiss her so bad.

"Unless you would rather I didn't."

"No _Cocoa,_ I prefer you right where you are."

"Well _I'd_ prefer you-"

The words died in her throat as soon as her back was against the wall. She didn't even register their moving, and then he was lifting her arms up and pinning them above her head.

"What would you prefer I do?" The emperor of the night smoldered at her for all he was worth, pressing his body into hers.

"Stop talking."

"Then will you give me something to occupy my mouth with?"

Her heart was pounding. It was impossible not to feel self conscious with him staring at her like he could see into her soul. His gaze flicked down to her mouth, and then back to her eyes, and she licked her lips, suddenly parched. What was he waiting for? Didn't he want to get this over with?

It was strange. He didn't know why, but he felt incredible. With each inhale of her scent, he wanted more. It was clear she didn't understand, but then, neither did he. For just a second he wanted to savor the moment.

The first press of his lips was soft and slow, but too tender; too languid, and she wanted him to hurry up. Finally she'd had enough and nipped his lips - a trick she learned from him.

"Just as impatient as ever I see," he smiled.

She pushed back against him where their hands were joined.

"Is there a point to teasing me like this?" She was getting annoyed again.

"I just wanted to take my time, but if there's somewhere you have to be -"

He sobered a bit, reminding himself not to carelessly trample over her land mine.

"I don't, I just… Is this what you're like with everyone?"

He smiled at her, knowing she wouldn't believe him.

"No."

She rolled her eyes. Like she was stupid enough to believe that.

"Fine, we'll do it your way," he told her, letting go of her hands. "Any preference? Position? Location?"

"B-bedroom, I guess…" she murmured, her cheeks burning.

How could he just come out with a question like that and expect her to answer, like it was the most normal thing in the world? Oh right, because he was a playboy. To him it _was_ normal, and that was the whole reason she was there in the first place. She needed to get ahold of herself.

"Down that hall," he pointed, "after you."

 _Ahem,_ "right."

She took a deep breath and steeled herself. It was terrifying, but exhilarating, hearing his soft footfalls behind her as she walked towards his _bedroom,_ where they would be having _sex._ And then there was his bed, and he was standing in front of her, and it was really, really real. She was doing this. They were really doing this. Doing _it._

He couldn't get a read on her, but if this was what she needed to feel comfortable, then he'd do it. It was crazy, but he felt like he'd do just about anything she asked. She got onto the bed and he leaned over her, holding her gaze. Her arms went around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss - much more hurried this time, and he felt a throb between his legs that urged him to advance. He started to pull off his shirt, but she stopped him.

"Can… can I do it?" she gulped, unable to meet his eyes.

"Of course."

He lowered his arms and held still, anticipation flooding his body with heat, as she cautiously reached for the hem of his shirt. His heart was pounding, and she'd barely even touched him.

Another deep breath and she pulled the fabric upward, revealing his offensively perfect abs. She felt mesmerized, the way the muscles would shift and tense with each breath, and she lifted higher, until the shirt was over his head. He looked like he'd been carved from marble, or ripped out of an airbrushed magazine ad, and she wanted to crawl into a hole and die. There was no way she could let him see her naked now. If she felt plain before, being next to him was like some kind of cruel joke.

"Something wrong?"

"Do you mind if we turn the light off?" _As though that would help,_ she thought bitterly.

He tried to figure out where her mind was, but then he remembered how she described herself before: _plain, undesirable._ Did she not want him to see? He took her hands again, this time bringing them to his mouth and kissing her fingers.

"Close your eyes."

She looked at him dubiously, but with a huff she obeyed. He leaned in, cupping her cheek with one hand, and kissed her slowly, each movement deliberate. When he felt her starting to relax, he went lower, kissing her jaw and then down her neck and to her collarbone. She sighed softly as he trailed his fingers to the hem of her shirt, but when they dipped below the fabric, she started to tense.

He moved back up to her mouth, flicking her lips with his tongue and then biting. The pace he was trying to force was agonizing, and he could feel himself straining as she pulled him closer by tugging on his hair. This time, when he started to lift up her shirt, she was focused on his tongue in her mouth.

She could feel his hand moving up her stomach, so hot it practically burned her skin, and she arched her back, urging him higher. Her self-consciousness suddenly didn't seem all that important, when it felt this good for him to touch her.

"Kyoko," he breathed in her ear, as he gently squeezed her breast.

She moaned too loud, as his thumb rubbed against her nipple and his teeth scraped along her jaw. Too good, he was too good at this, and it wasn't fair. Part of her thought she should go ahead and use him for whatever pleasure he'd give her, since he was sure to lose interest by the morning, but she didn't want a repeat of the last time; just passively lying there. She swung her leg for momentum, pushing him over and rolling on top of him, so their positions were reversed. The surprise on his face quickly morphed into the wicked smile of the emperor, and she rolled her hips into him.

The feel of him hard and rubbing against her ignited the heat pooling in her belly, lighting her whole body on fire. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her down as he pushed up, and suddenly she was feeling bold. Taking care not to be caught by his stupid, gemstone eyes smoldering holes in her skull, she pulled up her shirt with both hands and lifted it over her head.

He was stunned. One minute she was shy and timid, and the next she'd shoved him on his back and was effectively riding him. How was it possible that anyone could think _she_ was boring? He'd never been so captivated by, or wanted anyone this much in his life. He sat upright so that she was in his lap, needing to kiss her, and to feel her skin against his. She bit his lips and dragged her nails down his back, testing the limits of his restraint. When she started unbuttoning her pants, he couldn't help himself.

"Can I do it?" he asked.

He was bound and determined to tease her to death, she was sure of it.

"Alright," she breathed, lying next to him on the bed.

She squirmed as he slowly, too slowly, dragged them down her hips. The cool air of the room hit her heated skin and made her shiver, a stark contrast with the warmth of his fingers trailing along her body. The anticipation was already too much and he kept making her wait. Was the goal to make her as frustrated as possible? With her naked body on display before him, she should've been mortified, but all she could feel was the intense need building inside her. Stupid playboy jerk, playing with her like this. When he moved up to kiss her, she shoved him on his back again.

"Close your eyes," she told him, willing herself not to die of embarrassment..

She took a deep breath and undid the button on his pants. Another breath, and she pulled down the zipper. She could feel him, pushing hard against his jeans, and she looked up to make sure his eyes were still closed. Her heart beat like a hummingbird's as she gripped the fabric at either side of his hips and pulled it down, along with his underwear. He sprang dramatically free and she froze, staring. _Wow,_ she thought, wetting her lips. He really was _perfect._

Now she was the one teasing him, and he couldn't keep his eyes shut any longer; he needed to see her face. When she glanced up at him from between his legs, face so close he could feel her breath, and her cheeks tinged pink, he couldn't help the wicked smile curving up his lips. She was just so beautiful, and he was losing his fucking mind. He sat up and she joined him, uncertain eyes meeting his.

"Kyoko," his fingers brushed her cheek, pushing her hair behind her ear, "you're not plain or boring, and you can tell how much I want you."

She turned her head away, feeling annoyed again. Why did he have to lie to her? Just because his body reacted physically didn't mean anything. Sex with just about anyone was good enough for him. Did he say those words to every woman he took home, like they were special to him? It didn't matter, because by the morning this would all be over. At least he could make her feel good for one night.

She reached a hand between them and stroked him firmly.

"Don't talk anymore."

He gasped in pleasure, but that didn't lessen the sting of her words. It was a bitter rejection, with her touching him like that at the same time. It didn't matter if he was just a playboy to her, and that she was only interested in his body. He still hated how she saw herself, and if he couldn't tell her, then he'd just have to show her.

"How will you stop me?"

He was lucky he felt so good, because he was such an annoying bastard. She pushed his shoulders down to the mattress and reached for a condom from the bedside table. The feel of his eyes on her, watching her, made her heart race faster, but she ignored it and opened the wrapper, rolling the condom over him.

He pushed up to his elbows as she guided him to her entrance, trying desperately to hold back his ecstasy. She whimpered as she sank down onto him, enveloping him in her warmth. He clenched his jaw, tingling all over, and forced his eyes open so he could watch her. Lifting herself up and down and squeezing him with such perfect pressure, he almost ready to cum already.

"Kyoko," he moaned, as her nails pushed into his chest. "You're incredible."

She lost her breath. Damn him, she almost believed he meant it. Maybe it wasn't so bad, just for right then, to pretend that he did. He felt so good, filling her so fully, that she wanted to lose herself in him. What did it matter? It was just one night. She sped up her pace and he grabbed her hips, forcing her down harder as he thrust up into her, again and again, until she was panting. Her back arched, pressure building as little jolts of electricity arced through her body. He moaned her name, over and over, like he really meant it, the lurid praise driving her higher.

She rocked her hips against him harder and faster, making his whole body tremble. Her voice got louder; every sweet sound making him crazy. His fingers pressed greedily into her skin, as he thrust deeper inside her. He was so close now, the pressure too intense to contain, and when she cried out, her walls rhythmically pulsing around him, he finally let go. Electricity shot through him in a burst of white as he fell into the mattress, completely spent.

She let herself collapse beside him, the little aftershocks running through her body. He took her hand and laced their fingers, before leaning down to press a kiss to her shoulder. Just for a minute, even though she knew it was a lie, she let herself pretend. When he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, she melted into his warmth. She stayed like that, in his embrace, until she could no longer deny it to herself, and she needed to escape.

"Leaving already? And here I was hoping for round two," he teased.

With her pants pulled halfway up she froze, turning to look at the wicked smile on his face.

"Round two?"

"Did you think I was done with you already?"

Of course she did. Sho never wanted… She looked away, having a very hard time meeting his eyes. He got up from the bed and leaned over, lifting her chin for a kiss. It was confusing; she didn't know what was happening, but she felt like she needed to find out. Just how much longer was this going to last? How much more until he finally lost interest once and for all?

"I just need a quick cigarette break." He grinned at the pointed look she gave him. "And I'm going outside, so you don't have to tell me I can't smoke here."

He kissed her again and she bit his lips. How much longer would she keep responding to his antagonism? Once they'd worked out all the tension, would she still react the same? After she finished with him for the night, would she walk out of his apartment and be done with him for good? Maybe if he could satisfy her well enough, he could get her to stick around, but he knew that even if she did, it wouldn't be for long. He was just a playboy to her after all.

"Whatever, just hurry up."

"No, we did that last round. When I get back, I intend to take my time... Unless you have somewhere else to be," he faltered.

She swallowed thickly, closing her eyes, the reminder making her heart fall into her stomach.

"I don't." It wasn't a lie, no one was waiting for her. "Make sure you brush your teeth."

He laughed, "anything for you."

The cool air felt good against his skin; grounding him. He exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dissipate into the night, and when he looked up, he saw a shooting star. Like an idiot, he made a wish, even though he knew it wouldn't come true. At least he had tonight, which was already more than he deserved. It would have to be enough.

* * *

 **A/N: Honestly, I just wasn't feeling the second half of this, so it was either force it or delay it indefinitely. It may or may not take a while to get (what should be) the last chapter out, since I don't want to try and force it again. Life stuff fucking up and getting in the way, I tell ya. Ruuuude.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Officially the second to last chapter!**

* * *

She fell asleep somewhere after round three, and woke up cradled to his chest. Was this normal for a playboy, holding her so tightly, and showing her so much affection and tenderness? It was her first one night stand, but she was sure they weren't supposed to be like this.

"Mmm, morning," he mumbled, burying his face in her neck and nuzzling her skin.

Maybe he wasn't awake enough to realize what he was doing. Maybe he thought she was someone else.

"Sorry," she sputtered, "I didn't mean-"

He opened his eyes and looked at her, knowing from her face what she meant.

"It's fine," he yawned, stretching out his arms before pulling her back in.

It was nice to wake up without his head splitting for a change. He looked at the clock and couldn't believe it, it was already after 7. When was the last time he slept that long? He couldn't even remember. Of course, she did keep him up pretty late...

"Another round?" he asked, caressing her arm.

Maybe the morning was like an extension of the night before, and the spell wouldn't wear off until she left the apartment.

"No," she sighed, checking the time. "I have work."

At this rate, she'd just barely get home and changed in time for her shift. It's not like she was disappointed. That would be ridiculous.

"Right, the coffee shop," he grumbled, not wanting to let her go.

Living with someone, her bills shouldn't have been that high, but it was none of his business. Was she not making enough money at the bar, and that's why she needed to work a second job, or was she trying to save up for a specific reason, like a wedd- _It wasn't his business._ She was an adult, and she could make her own choices. It had nothing to do with him.

"Is it... okay if I… can I… your shower…"

"Make yourself at home."

"Thank you," she muttered, wrapping herself in a sheet as she crept from the bed.

 _Back to being timid then I see,_ he thought, pressing his face against the pillow and breathing in her scent. By some kind of miracle, he fell back asleep.

She showered as quickly as she could, feeling like she wasn't supposed to be there. This was _his_ place, and she didn't belong. His apartment was nice, too, even nicer than the one she shared with Sho, although it was practically empty, and it just made her more aware of the difference between them.

He was asleep when she finished, probably for the best, because an awkward goodbye was the last thing she wanted. Still, it would only be polite to make some breakfast before she left. Feeling almost like a thief, she rifled through the kitchen, looking for some kind of sustenance, but he had nothing except for a few frozen dinners. She cast a glance toward the bedroom door, where he was probably sleeping soundly, and shook her head. _I guess he'll have to fend for himself,_ she thought, scribbling out a quick note before finally escaping.

He stayed in bed even after he heard the door shut, not wanting to face the empty apartment just yet. It was pathetic to miss her, but he did, and she wasn't coming back. That was for the best anyway, he knew it as well as she did, and she was pretty clear about it being a one time thing. What interest would she have in him, now that she probably got it out of her system? She belonged to someone else, which was how it should be. Though, it didn't seem like that person deserved her either.

* * *

The sound of the door slamming roused Sho into consciousness prematurely, and he wasn't happy about it. He crawled out of bed and stumbled to the door, only to find Kyoko with her clothes half off, moving through the apartment like a violent tornado. She always did have to make trouble for him didn't she - but wait, did she just get home? The sun was up, so where the hell was she until now? Not like he cared...

"Morning," he groused, irritated.

"Sho!" She spun around to face him, nearly falling to the floor as she wrestled with a pant leg. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry."

 _Fuck,_ she thought. Of all the times for him to actually be home, of course it would be last night. It kind of felt good to think of him waiting up for her, while _she_ was with someone else, before the thought was swept up by the tide and drowned in an ocean of guilt.

"Yeah, well-" he stopped, eyes zeroing in on a peculiar bruise above her right breast.

If he didn't know better, he'd have sworn… but that was impossible. No way Kyoko would… He grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward him; bringing his face close to get a better look. To his surprise, she pushed him off.

"Sho, I'm gonna be late for work!"

Then he realized it, what felt off about her. It was her _scent._ Her hair smelled different, like she used someone else's shampoo, but this was Kyoko. There's no way she was with some guy, and used his shower. There was just no way. He was half asleep and imagining things, that had to be it. Any other option was just impossible for her.

"Whatever, not like I care."

Mercifully he returned to his room, and she raced through getting dressed as quickly as she could, before running out the door just in time for her train. She sighed, sinking into her seat, and tried to calm her herself down.

* * *

Work was a slog. He'd been hoping for a decent distraction, but they were already well above quota, which meant no one wanted to put in more than the minimum. Sitting alone in his empty apartment was doing him no favors either. He sighed, reaching for another cigarette - the last in his pack - when he saw a note on the kitchen island.

 _You should really eat better, don't underestimate the importance of nutrition on your health._

 _Sorry again for staying the night._

He smiled wryly, breathing out a laugh. She really was such an odd woman. What kind of person cautions their one night stand about his eating habits? Not that it mattered, since she probably never wanted to see him again… and then he noticed another surprise, her bag from the convenience store. Even if she didn't care about it, at least now he had an excuse to see her; the one he couldn't admit to himself he was hoping for.

* * *

The day had been long but uneventful, and it was nice to get some peace, especially after finding the _hickey_ a certain playboy-who-shall-not-be-named left on her chest. It could've been him messing with her even more, but it was probably just an accident. She'd lost his interest by now anyway, so there'd have been no point. At least, that's what she thought until the bastard walked in and sat right in front of her. What the hell was he doing?! Why was he here?

She said nothing, trying to act nonchalant, and poured him a drink, all while desperately avoiding his gaze. Even without checking, she could feel his eyes, like laser beams, burning holes right through her body.

"What are you doing here?" she finally asked, annoyance getting the better of her mouth.

He lifted the convenience store bag into view.

"You forgot this."

"Oh," she breathed, definitely not feeling disappointed. "Th-thanks."

He smiled at her, eyes glinting with mischief, "my pleasure, _Cocoa."_

Why the hell was he doing this? She slept with him, didn't that mean it was over? So why was he here, and what did he want from her? Was she really that much fun to toy with? Did he want her to watch him leave with someone else in some twisted attempt to make her jealous? She couldn't understand what was going through that unfairly attractive head, and she wasn't sure she wanted to.

"So…" he began.

Why did he suddenly feel like he was inviting her to prom? He was never nervous like this when talking to a woman before.

"Are you busy after work?"

"No," she answered, surprised by herself as much as by him.

"Do you want to come over?"

"What for?" she asked earnestly, and he tried to ignore the sensation of being punched in the stomach.

He couldn't possibly still want to see her after that. One and done, that was his style, right? _More like three and done in this case,_ she thought, her ears burning, but that was besides the point! Womanizing, playboy jerk. This had to be some kind of new game.

"Do I have to spell it out for you, _Cocoa?_ I thought last night would've made it obvious, but I can say the words if you want me to."

Her face flashed bright red and he couldn't help smiling. It drove him crazy how cute she was. Maybe there was some chance she'd actually say yes. He didn't normally put himself out there like this, and the prospect of rejection was very real, and absolutely gut wrenching.

She rolled it over in her head, trying to figure out what his angle was. Was he so hard up he was desperate, and she seemed convenient? But that wasn't right… she saw him turn down someone much prettier than she was. She didn't understand.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

Seeing that wicked smile made her want to throw a drink right in his stupid, playboy face.

"You know what, _Corn."_

He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Because I want you."

She huffed, rolling her eyes, "what's the real reason?"

"What reason will get you to say yes?"

"Why do you have to be so annoying?"

He grinned, recognizing that expression.

"You say that, but you still haven't said no."

She narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, and looked away.

"If you leave me alone until the end of my shift, I'll _think_ about it. Okay?"

"Okay."

Coming from her, that was probably the best answer he was going to get.

* * *

That's how it went. He'd wait for her outside the bar when her shift ended, and then they'd go to his place. Sometimes he'd order takeout and they'd eat in, and on the nights she felt too tired for sex, he asked her to come anyway. They'd cuddle up on the couch with a movie, and he'd hold her, like she was the only thing keeping him afloat. She told herself it didn't mean anything; that this was all just another game, but the unspoken truth hung in the air between them, and she knew eventually it would have to end.

When Kuon got to the bar, someone was already waiting outside. They were closed, so it was a little strange, but he didn't think much of it. He leaned against the building, taking a long drag off his cigarette, unbothered by the grimace the guy shot him. It seemed to say, _do you have to do that here?,_ and he couldn't help but smile, thinking of Kyoko.

She was feeling pretty good, and she couldn't wait to see him. After a long day, all she wanted was to sink into his arms. Then she opened the door, and reality crashed down upon her like a demolitioned building. She froze, seeing the two of them in her field of view at the same time. Every instinct said to run, but there was nowhere left to go. She'd just have to stand there at the chopping block, awaiting her execution. It wasn't like she didn't have it coming, she just didn't think it'd be like this.

"Sho! Wh-what are you doing here?" she panicked, trying to keep her voice even.

 _So that must be the guy,_ Kuon thought, _guess she has a thing for blondes._ He did seem like a real prick though, but it was none of his business. Thinking that she had a type, and that both of them fit the bill, wasn't a comparison he found particularly flattering. Of course, even now he was nothing more than a playboy to her. For a second, he almost forgot.

"Is that the thanks I get for coming all this way just to walk you home? I'd think you'd be happy to see me."

"Of-of course," she stammered, "I didn't mean… I-I'm sorry."

Anger coiled up tight in Kuon's gut. Where did that strong, fierce Kyoko go? She looked like a pitiful little squirrel, receding into herself, and he wanted to punch that asshole square in the face.

"Did you want something?" Sho demanded, glaring at Kuon.

"Just finishing my cigarette," he warned, standing up to his full height. "Do you have a problem with that?

Kyoko shot him a pleading look and guilt washed over him. Now he _really_ felt terrible.

"Come on Kyoko," Sho ordered, pulling his arm around her possessively, _"let's go home."_

She said nothing in response, just doing what she was told. Seeing her that way made Kuon feel sick. He wanted to do something; he didn't even know what, but he'd probably just make things worse. Once again, he reminded himself that it wasn't his business. _She_ wasn't his business. No matter how much it hurt.

* * *

Sho didn't know who that guy was, but he really, _really_ didn't like him. What the hell was his damage anyway? He had to be waiting for someone else, right, there's no way he'd be waiting for plain, boring Kyoko. That was just ridiculous, and besides, it's not like that mark could actually be a hickey, it just looked a lot like one.

She didn't say a thing the entire walk home, all the while listening to him bluster on and on about how good of him it was to go _all the way there_ to pick her up. By the time they reached the apartment, she was slumped over and feeling miserable. She tried to walk away, hoping for a distraction and to end the conversation, but he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"I was just going to make dinner," she explained, pulling back.

"I'm not hungry," he insisted, walking her toward a wall.

"Sho, I -"

He interrupted her objections with his lips, trying to prove to himself that he was just being paranoid. Only she didn't return the kiss, and when he stuck his tongue in her mouth, she didn't respond at all. She just stood there, stiff.

"Don't you want me, Kyoko?" he breathed, trailing kisses along her skin.

"I'm tired, Sho, it's been a long day."

"You've never been too tired before."

He was right, but she really _was_ tired. All the energy she had evaporated the moment she saw him outside the bar. It made her realize what she'd been pretending not to know all this time. What she was really tired of was _this._ What she was tired of was _him,_ and finally facing that truth washed her fear away; casting off the heavy weight she'd been struggling to carry for years.

"Do you love me?" she asked suddenly.

"What?"

She took a breath and repeated the words, carefully enunciating each syllable. "Do you love me?"

"I-" he hesitated.

"That's what I thought. What are we really doing here, Sho?"

"Where's this coming from?" He didn't know how to respond; this wasn't like her.

"You don't love me, and you don't actually want to be with me."

"I never said that," he argued, trying to recover.

"But it's true, and I'm tired of pretending not to know."

For so many years the lie had been what she lived for, but she couldn't keep doing it, not anymore. He stared at her for a while, trying to think of a response, and then smirked, like he'd figured out some secret.

"Don't tell me, did you actually find someone else?" There was no way _she_ came up with this on her own.

"That's not what this is about." It really wasn't; even if Kuon was the one that helped her see, this wasn't about him.

"So you admit it!"

She closed her eyes, rubbing her neck, and tried not to lose her patience, while he looked at her all smug and accusing. Like _he_ had the moral high ground. She would've laughed if she wasn't so fucking tired.

"We're not even together though, are we Sho? And let's not talk about sleeping around, because I could never hope to compete."

He coughed, looking off to the side. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh? Maybe this will refresh your memory."

She pulled up the picture on her phone that had started all this, and thrust it in his face, watching him scramble for an excuse.

It was the first time she'd ever stood up to him, since they first met as kids, and he was genuinely taken aback. With the evidence right there, how could he deny it? What words would make her drop this whole thing, so they could keep going how they were before? It's not his fault her body couldn't satisfy him; he had other needs.

"Don't walk away from me Kyoko."

She stopped, looking him square in the eyes, and then sighed. It took way longer than it should've, but she was finally, really done.

"Goodbye Sho."

His eyes went wide, his jaw falling open.

"If you walk out that door, I… I'm not coming after you. Don't even think of crawling back!"

She lowered her head, mouth lifting into a mirthless smile, and without another word, she turned and left. The only question was, where could she go? She dismissed the thought of waking up Kanae almost as soon as it popped into her head, and between Sho and work, she'd never had any time to make friends. Just how many things did her relationship with him hold her back from?

As though scrolling through her contact list would produce a miracle, she rifled through her purse for her phone, freezing when her hand bumped the edge of a familiar box. Just like that, she knew exactly where to go. She just didn't know if she'd be welcome when she got there.

* * *

 **A/N: WELL! So I cut this here to give you an extra chapter, but the last chapter might end up pretty short. We'll see what happens. No guarantee I'll finish it by next week either :/**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Ahem, well, here's the last chapter+epilogue.**

* * *

He slammed back the shot, savoring the burn of the whiskey down his throat, a moment's distraction from the anger boiling in his veins. His fingers curled into fists, his brain desperately urging him to break something, and he succeeded. The glass shattered in his hand with a loud crunch; a sharp stinging where it sliced his palm, and he squeezed tighter, breathing out in relief as the fragments dug into his skin. He closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling, and finally starting to calm down. Then someone rang the fucking buzzer and blew it all to hell.

He rinsed off his hand, letting the pieces fall into the sink, and took a quick swig from the bottle before going to answer it.

She stood in front of his apartment, her grip on the box in her hand tightening, as her heart raced out of control. Would he be glad to see her? Would he tell her to get out? Did she even have a right to be there at all? She didn't really know what she was doing, or why, but she felt like she had to see him. Like nothing else mattered.

He pulled the door open and blinked, not trusting his eyes. Why was she there? He wondered if he should ask, play the part he was supposed to, but he just stood there, unseeing eyes focused on the wall behind her.

She looked up at him and then away, her fingers fiddling with the corners of the box. Somehow she couldn't think of what to say, and the silence dragged on into awkwardness until she saw blood drip onto the floor. Without thinking, she reached out, grabbing his wrist and pulling it up.

"What happened? Are you okay?" She asked, pushing the door shut with her foot as she dragged him to the kitchen.

"I'm fine," he told her, torn between numb and angry, and still wanting her just to keep touching him. "I broke a glass."

She'd have worried about the alcohol on his breath if she wasn't so used to it, but his posture and behavior were still so odd. Thinking that she was the cause of it seemed too presumptuous, but she couldn't help feeling responsible somehow.

He was disgusting, caught between wanting her to leave and half hoping that she never would. Why was she doing this anyway? Obligation? Guilt? Just because she was a good person? It couldn't have been because she cared about him. He was just convenient. _A playboy._ She pulled a first aid kit out of her purse, because of course someone like her would have one, and a bitter smile found his face.

It was hard to concentrate with him staring at her so intensely, and she tried her best to ignore the dark, unfamiliar glint in his eyes.

"Sit down please."

"I can take care of myself," he protested.

"Like I believe that," she scoffed, putting her hands on her hips. "You'd probably splash some liquor on it and wipe the blood off with a towel."

"Give me more credit than that," he grumbled, turning his head away.

"Maybe if you deserved it. Now, sit down and behave."

He did as instructed, plopping into a chair and lifting his palm up for her inspection. She pulled out a few embedded shards with tweezers before applying iodine, and all he could think about was that guy from earlier. Her _boyfriend._ Why did the thought of them together cause bile to rise up in his throat? He was a hypocrite too.

She started wrapping the bandage, when he pulled her into his lap. Her reflex was to push away, but his arms held her in place.

"Stay," he whispered, "please."

There was a hard edge in his voice, but she could hear the subtle desperation underneath, and it made something clench inside her chest. She leaned into him, pressing her head against his shoulder. It didn't make sense. There was this dangerous aura around him, but she wasn't afraid at all. Aside from being slightly uncomfortable from how tightly he held her, she felt completely safe.

She just stayed there, not trying to make him let go. He didn't understand the reason, or why she was there in the first place. Did she come running to him at the first sign of trouble in paradise, or was she just hoping for a quick fuck? No matter what it was she wanted, he wasn't in the mood to provide it, but he couldn't help himself, pulling her close and breathing in her scent. He'd probably let her use him however she liked. He really _was_ that fucking pathetic.

She let herself sink against him, finding comfort and assurance in his strong arms and his warmth. Even like this, his body felt so good that she wanted to stay there forever, but it wasn't fair or right. What a joke. In her high-minded self-righteousness, she was the one who ended up using him, and she still was even now.

"I'm sorry," she breathed.

Tears burned at the back of her eyes but she wouldn't let them fall. If he tried to comfort her, she really couldn't take it.

"What for?" he bristled, not wanting to hear her response but knowing it was inevitable.

She tried to pull away, but he wrapped his arms tighter.

"Going already? Back to _him?"_

Now that was enough to turn her guilt into anger. She just escaped from one possessive, controlling man, and she certainly wasn't going to deal with another. Even if she'd treated him horribly, that was crossing the line.

"That's… it's none of your business."

He finally let go and she stood up, smoothing out her clothes. Apparently tonight was a night for fighting. Well, at least she could get it all out at once.

"Right, because I'm just the guy you use for sex, right?"

He didn't bother to hide the scorn in his voice. Part of him almost hated her, but he still wanted her. Of course he did, even though she didn't care about him. The truth was, the person that he really hated was himself.

"I-"

"But it's okay, because I'm a _playboy._ I'm just a womanizer with no feelings, right, is that the convenient narrative you tell yourself so you have an excuse?"

Normally he'd let her have her precious moral superiority, but not this time. He was just so fucking mad, and he knew that he was taking it out on her, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He was a much worse monster than the kind of bastard she thought he was, but _that_ didn't matter just then.

She covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes had started overflowing and she couldn't keep it in any longer.

"You're right," she cried, "you're right. I-I used you, and I-"

She wanted him to yell, to curse her out. To tell her what a terrible person she was - to call her a hypocrite. Instead, he pulled her into his arms again, and she just couldn't stop sobbing. Against reason she clung to him, and let the guilt of his comfort eat her up inside, since it was the only rebuke he'd give her.

This was the second time he'd seen her cry, and this time it was his fault. He readied himself to bear her well-deserved rejection, but she didn't protest. She gripped him back tightly, until her tears soaked his shirt.

"I'm sorry," she blubbered in between sobs. "I'm so sorry."

"Shhh," he whispered against her hair, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

Her head was swimming, the waters too high and drowning her in the swirling vortex of mixed emotions. She didn't understand him at all, but she really was guilty of exactly the kind of thing she accused him of and hated him for. She'd been projecting her problems with Sho onto him, and then used him as it suited her, without thinking about how it affected him.

"Don't try to comfort me. I don't deserve it."

He lifted her chin up and forced her to meet his eyes.

"Listen, alright? Before you imagine yourself as a playboy of _my_ caliber, you should know that you're terrible at it. Your thoughts are always written all over your face, and your sense of duty is way too strong."

"But I-"

"Don't argue with me. Think about how long we've actually known each other. I see how you treat people who aren't me. And before you protest, know that I wouldn't have kept coming back if I didn't enjoy it." He sat down again, pulling her back into his lap. "Antagonizing you is still one of my favorite things in the world."

She jabbed him gently with her elbow, a meak smile tugging at her mouth, and he stroked her cheek, pushing her hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He pressed his lips to hers so gently, so tenderly, offering comfort and reassurance she couldn't bear to accept. If nothing else, she owed him some kind of explanation. She stood up slowly, trying to muster the courage, and he made no move to stop her. The thing was that she didn't know what to say, or what it would mean to tell him.

"If… if there's anything you want to know, you can ask."

"Are you planning on staying?"

His head was full to bursting with questions, but he was afraid of most of the answers. At least that one was safe, probably.

"If you're okay with it," she swallowed, "but I need to be up early. I have… to start looking for an apartment... and arrange for movers and -" She trailed off, sheepishly scratching at her neck.

He wanted to hope, but he had to contain himself. Why did those words flood his chest with warmth? Why did he entertain for even a split second telling her she should stay with him?

"It's late," he told her, "let's get some rest."

She raised his injured hand, the partially wrapped bandage hanging off, and gave him a pointed look.

"Let me fix this first, and - oh! Before I forget," _or while I still have the nerve,_ she added to herself, "this is for you. I was waiting for the right moment, but it ended up giving me an excuse to show up."

"Did you need an excuse?"

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me."

He hummed, "neither was I, honestly, but I'm glad you're here now."

She ducked her chin to hide a smile.

"Let's see if you still feel that way after you open it."

Inside the box was a cigarette case. On it were the words "NO SMOKING!" with a skeleton playing a pan flute made of cigarettes. Despite himself he laughed.

"You know," he admitted, "for you I think I would quit."

The deeper implications hung in the air between them, too much already having happened for one night, but now it was just a little bit easier to breathe.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand, "let's go to bed."

In his warm, comforting arms, she fell asleep almost instantly, but he stayed awake a while, watching her face, and letting himself entertain all kinds of thoughts he probably shouldn't. At least now, maybe, there was a chance she'd stick around. He'd do everything he could to persuade her.

* * *

 **Epilogue**

* * *

He smiled as he walked through the door, warmth filling his chest at the sight of her reproachful glare.

"What are you doing here? Go away."

She took someone's drink order and then quickly wiped the bar, refusing to let it show on her face that she was happy to see him.

"But I missed you."

"You're ridiculous," she huffed, "I'll see you in a few hours."

"I don't want to wait that long."

The grin he gave her could've seduced a stranger at fifty paces. Having now developed a strong immunity, she just narrowed her eyes.

"I'll only stay for one drink."

He wanted to laugh but held it in, her stern face too adorable to resist. Besides, it was fun to play along. He _still_ loved to antagonize her.

"I'm not encouraging your alcoholism, and put those puppy eyes away! It's not going to work," she huffed.

"You know," he leaned forward, "I'm starting to wonder if you're actually my jailer instead of my _girlfriend."_

Heat flooded her face and she tightened her jaw. He enjoyed teasing her far too much. Was he ever going to get tired of it?

"If you don't like it, you can leave."

"I never said I didn't like it."

She rolled her eyes. Why did he always have to be so annoying.

"I have work to do."

For all her pretense about disliking it, he could see her biting her lip to hold back a smile.

"You know, I don't know if my ego will ever recover from this treatment."

The corners of her lips quirked up just a hair and she grit her teeth. No chance in hell was she letting him win.

"Somehow I doubt that," she grumbled, "but it would probably be good for you if it was true."

He choked out a small laugh, covering his mouth and disguising it as a cough. If she wouldn't kill him for it, he'd have lifted her over the bar and kissed her right then.

"What would I do without you to keep me in line?"

He twinkled his gemstone eyes at her and smiled a smile so dazzling it practically singed her retinas.

"Drink this and leave," she ordered.

With her head turned firmly away from his direction, she pushed a glass of seltzer towards him. He wasn't even disappointed honestly, and dutifully left after drinking it. Love really made people strange.

She finally let herself smile once he was out the door, a soft, warm feeling bubbling up inside her. It was so hard to concentrate on her work with him there, because she just wanted to stare at his stupid, perfect face, _and maybe kiss or…_

It wasn't until someone cleared their throat that she came back down to reality and quickly resumed working. It wouldn't be too long until she finished, and he'd be waiting for her outside, like he always did. She shook her head, having only just pulled herself out of a daydream and almost falling into another.

Just as he leaned against the familiar brick wall, the door opened and she stepped outside. He smirked at her, reaching into his pocket, and she gave him a warning look.

"I know, I know, I can't smoke here," he winked, taking a stick of nicotine gum out of the cigarette case she gave him when they first got together.

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him expectantly.

"...Or anywhere else," he mumbled.

"As long as you know," she smiled, going onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Let's go home."

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips.

"We could always fool around in the alley for old time's sake."

"Playboy!" she yelled, turning crimson.

"Only for you."

She tried to pull her hand away but he wouldn't let go, the smug jerk. Even if she liked it, she would deny it under pain of death. No matter how much she loved him, she refused to let his ego get any bigger. It barely fit in his beautiful head as is.

* * *

 **A/N: Anyway, so it's been over a year, sorry about that. Hopefully the pacing and flow are alright and match the rest of the story well enough, whew. Thanks for everyone who waited so patiently for this, I hope the ending is satisfactory ^^**


End file.
